


Don't Remember

by Emptynarration



Category: Youtube RPF, Youtube egos
Genre: Comfort, False Accusations, Gen, Memory Loss, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21574852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emptynarration/pseuds/Emptynarration
Summary: Edward had taken care of the Host ever since he found him.Host, who had no clue who he was, who he had been. All he has is his name - Host.When the other egos find out justwhoEdward is housing and hiding from them, it gets....
Relationships: implied The Host/Dr Iplier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	Don't Remember

_Pain, blood, there was screaming filling his ears, his head, the cold metal in his hands was calming, rage and adrenaline rushed through his veins._

_Sickening crunches echoed through the air._

_The screaming stopped._

_He couldn't breathe, his limbs were flailing._

_The screams started again; a different voice._

_His throat hurt._

_He couldn't see._

_Hot tears ran down his cheeks._

_They were so wet._

_The scent of blood filled his nose._

  
  


He woke up gasping, shaking badly, and quickly curled up, hands fisting in his hair. He couldn't see, everything was dark, and the scent of blood filled his nose. He sobbed, pulling at his hair, trembling as he barely managed to breathe.  
He couldn't remember, his dreams terrified him, he didn't know why why _why_ -

“Host, Host, shh..”, a familiar voice reached him, gentle hands were on his own, and he sobbed loudly. Arms wrapped around him, and his curled up form was pulled close to the other.  
“It's okay. You're safe. Everything is okay.”, Edward's voice was so gentle, so calming, and Host let go of his hair to instead hold onto Edward. Pressing his face into the other's chest, sobbing and shaking.  
“I-I'm-”, Host started, but Edward gently shushed him, holding him tight.  
“It's okay, Host. You're here. I'm here. It's okay.”, Edward murmured gently, and Host continued crying, clutching Edward's coat tightly.  
“Th-the blood-”, Host tried again, and Edward gently rubbed his back, letting Host cry.  
“I know. It's okay. I'll clean it up soon.”, Edward assured, and finally, Host just let himself cry and cling to the doctor.

It took some time, before Host had quietened and calmed down. Edward gently pulled off his bandages and cleaned all the blood away, and when he rebandaged Host's eyes, Host was okay again. No more blood, no more bad dreams, and he was safe and okay and.. and at home.

“There we go. See? All better.”, Edward smiled softly, sitting next to Host on the bed again. Host leaned against him, and Edward would never find it in himself to mind.  
Host nodded lightly, shifting. He was quiet. His narrations were not. Perhaps he wasn't quiet, but, Host was honestly never very aware of what he said out loud and what not. He was told he said everything out loud. Perhaps he does.  
Edward didn't really mind it either. He sat there, letting Host lean against him, and talk and also not talk. It was complicated. Host was complicated. Very complicated. Edward liked complicated. He liked learning, especially complicated things. He was a man of science, after all. Medicinal science. It was science nonetheless, and while he was a doctor of medicine, there were doctors of technology, and others as well.

Host was not talking talking about where he was. His home. No, not his home, Edward's home. He didn't remember his home. Edward's home was his home. It was small, but nice. Many white walls, but there were a lot of drawings on them. Host couldn't see them, of course, but he's been told about them. They were mostly pencil drawings, and some in colour. They were all different, mostly of a lot of different people though. Sometimes it were objects, and never really landscapes.  
Edward hadn't decorated much other than that. He had a lot of books. Host couldn't read them, and Edward didn't touch most of them either. Host didn't know why, but he trusted him in what he thought. He knew they were old, and worn, and probably had been read a lot. Maybe Edward just didn't read books again after a while. Host wouldn't know.  
Everything was, mostly, rather modern. The shape and materials of furnishings, the layout of the house. He did have one old-fashioned armchair, and he always said it was Host's. Host trusted that, and he loved sitting there. It felt safe, familiar, comforting.

Edward was also very comforting. Not familiar, but safe. Host wanted him to be familiar, and he was getting familiar, slowly. Host liked that. He liked being familiar with Edward, because Edward was nice.  
Edward was also the only person Host knew. Host didn't know a lot of things. He didn't know why he had those nightmares, he didn't know why he couldn't see. Well, he couldn't see because he didn't have eyes -he knew that- but he didn't know why he didn't have them. He didn't know why he cried blood. He didn't know why he lived with Edward.  
Well, he lived with Edward because he couldn't remember anything. He didn't know why, but he assumed that's also why he had nightmares.

“Would you like something to eat?”, Edward asked softly. He always knew how to take care of Host, he always tried his best. Host greatly appreciated it.  
“The Host replies with an agreement, nodding lightly.”, Host replied, doing as he said. Edward smiled lightly, and slowly stood up, Host fidgeting where he was sitting. He waited a moment, Edward quietly watching, before Host nodded and stood up.  
Together, they made their way to the kitchen. Host sat at the table, while Edward went ahead to make some breakfast for them. Host was mumbling quietly. Talking and not talking, the weird thing that Host did. Narrating, they called it. It sort of was that, wasn't it? He was speaking like he was reading a book. But, it was about life.  
Sometimes, Host talked about things that weren't real. Edward sat with him then, listening, and then they talked about what was real. Reminded Host.

Sometimes, Host got lost in his head. He lost himself in all of those things that weren't real, but his mind perceived as real. Often times, he was panicking then. Talking over himself, words unable to catch up with what he was saying. Edward always tried to help him then.  
Host shouldn't lose himself. Edward knew that. Host knew that, even though he didn't know that. Edward had to pull Host back into reality, because Host couldn't remember what was real. He's told him before, that sometimes, he sees, hears, feels, a different Edward. That, even though the real Edward was touching him, Host thought it was a different one.  
That was always the hardest to get the Host out of. Edward had to try different things then, sometimes things he didn't want to do. But, he'd do anything to try and help Host. It was the least he could do for him.

When Edward was done making food, he sat next to Host, giving him his plate. Edward told Edward what was on the plate and where, before they both started to eat. They were quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. A quiet neither had the need to fill, and neither was Host talking nor not talking. It was truly quiet.

Then, the doorbell rang. Host flinched at the sudden sound, and Edward gently rubbed his shoulders.  
“Wait here. I'll go see who it is.”, Edward told Host. Once the blind man nodded, Edward made his way to the door. He took a deep breath before he opened it, and was greeted by the big pink burly man named Wilford.

“Eddie my dear! There you are.”, Wilford exclaimed, ecstatic as always, and Edward could already feel a headache approaching.  
“What do you want.”, Edward questioned, not really questioning as he didn't look forward to whatever it was Wilford wanted.  
“You've not been home in so long, we were worried for you!”, Wilford replied, pushing past Edward to step inside. The doctor had no choice but to close the door.  
“This _is_ my home.”, Edward retorted, and Wilford waved him off, obviously uncaring about such little details.  
“Yea yea, but _our_ home.”, Wilford replied, and Edward sighed. “You haven't been home in weeks!”.  
“I'm busy with a patient.”, Edward replied, and Wilford scrunched up his nose, crossing his arms.  
“But you haven't been home in so long! You always come home after at least a few days, even with needy patients.”, Wilford complained, and Edward glared at the pink man.  
“ _You're_ the one who's needy. My patients need help and attention.”, Edward replied, angry with Wilford. There was a reason why he kept Host in his home, after all.

Host, curious as to what was happening and who was out there, had stood up and crept to the doorway, holding onto the frame as he peeked out of it. Of course it didn't do anything, as he couldn't see, but he could hear better.  
Edward had his back to him, so he wouldn't notice him looking. But, Wilford was turned towards him, and the eccentric man was likely to notice him sooner or later.

“Excuses excuses! You haven't even shown up to let us know!”, Wilford exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, making Edward frown at him and cross his arms.  
“You're not babies. I can live my own life however I please, can't I?”, Edward glared at Wilford, unhappy about the other man's invasion of his home.  
“No you can't! We're all-”, Wilford cut off, his gaze landing on Host. Rumbled black button-up, dirty old jeans.  
“What the fuck is _he_ doing here?”, Wilford growled, anger filling his voice, and pointing an accusing finger at Host.  
“What?”, Edward turned to look, and he saw Host. Immediately concern filled him, knowing Wilford wouldn't listen to reason.

Wilford used Edward's moment of confusion to stalk forward and roughly grab Host's arm, making the blind man yelp as he was yanked out of the doorway.  
“Stop it!”, Edward grabbed the arm Wilford held onto Host with, pulling him away. Host whimpered lightly when he was let go, hiding behind Edward more than not.  
“Why is _he_ here?”, Wilford asked, anger dripping from his voice.  
“It's none of you business.”, Edward growled in return, crossing his arms tightly once more.  
“How can you let him stay with you? _Why are you hiding him?”_ , Wilford asked, raising his voice, making Host whimper and hold onto Edward.  
“ _He_ has a name, Wilford.”, Edward just wanted Wilford gone, he had done enough damage for a lifetime.

“I _know_ he has a name, Edward.”, Wilford snarled, venom dripping from his voice, making Edward's blood boil. “But he doesn't deserve being called _anything_ after what he's done.”.  
Host was breathing shakily, clinging to Edward's back, blood soaking quickly through his bandages. He didn't know who this was, he didn't know why Wilford hated him with such a burning passion, and it scared him immensely.  
“He’s _pathetic,_ look at him! He’s clinging to you like he’s _scared,_ like he’s a _baby!_ _”.  
_ “That's because he _is_ scared!”, Edward retorted, his own voice raising slightly in volume. “ _You're_ scaring him!”. If Host didn't hold onto him, Edward would've grabbed Wilford and knock some sense into him. “You don't get to come into _my_ house, and be such an _asshole_ to him!”.

“But-”

“Shut. Up.”

“ _But_ -”

“ _Shut the **fuck** up, Wilford_.”, Edward growled lowly at Wilford, the other man bristling. He glared at Edward, before Wilford poofed away in a pink cloud of mist. Immediately, Edward turned around, gently taking Host in his arms.  
“There there now. It's okay. He's gone.”, Edward murmured softly, as Host clung to Edward's chest, shaking and sobbing. Edward just held him, gently running his hand through Host's hair.

Once Host had calmed down, Edward helped him gently clean his face, and wrap fresh bandages around his head. Host was quiet while it happened, as quiet as he got while he was not talking, and Edward was a little worried.  
“Host?”, he asked softly, gently running his hand over Host's hair. He was always so affectionate with Host, so gentle, and Host could've cried again. Even though he wasn't sure why he felt like that.  
“Who.. who was that?”, Host asked quietly. He was leaning against Edward, head resting against the doctor's chest.  
“That was Wilford. He's a real dick.”, Edward replied, chuckling lightly. The sound and feeling did barely anything to calm Host, but at least Edward was here for him.  
“He made it sound like the Host is a bad person.”, Host mumbled, and Edward took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“You're not.”, Edward assured quietly. Host didn't seem convinced, but he trusted Edward.  
“Why did he do it then?”, he asked softly, and Edward smiled weakly.  
“You reminded him of someone he doesn't like. It's not your fault.”, Edward answered. Host nodded lightly, and it seemed to be enough for the time being. Edward wished he could've helped Host, but, he didn't know how. Host wasn't the person Wilford accused him of being; not anymore. Host was Host, and no one else.

The two sat together for a while, just quiet, Edward holding Host and gently rocking him. Host finally fully calmed down and relaxed, and once he was, Edward grabbed a book so the two of them could read. Or rather, Edward read out loud for his friend.  
They were perfectly content to stay there and read, but sadly, it shouldn't be. Of course Wilford had gone to tattle on Edward. So, there was another knock on the door. Edward took a deep breath and sighed.  
“I'll see who it is this time. I won't let anyone scare you again.”, Edward said, smiling lightly. He pecked Host's cheek, making the blind man smile lightly, before standing and walking to the door.

Opening it, Edward inwardly groaned.

“Iplier.”.

“Dark.”.

Edward stepped aside, letting Dark in. At least he knew how to behave, unlike Wilford, so Edward hoped that it would be alright. He didn't feel like causing Host panic _again_. Even if it wasn't his fault.  
Dark walked inside, cold, calculating eyes sweeping over the room, before settling on Host. He didn't have a change of expression, or anything, but Edward just _knew_ what Dark was thinking. So Edward was quick to walk over to Host, sitting back down next to him, motioning to the free armchair for Dark to sit in.  
Dark stayed standing for a little, just watching them -Edward levelling a challenging gaze at Dark- before he finally sat down.

They sat in silence for a little, before Host grew uncomfortable, and Edward rolled his eyes.  
“So?”, he prompted Dark, crossing his arms, and the monochromatic man scrunched up his nose for a second.  
“Why is he here.”. It wasn't a question, Edward was aware. But Dark didn't know the answer either.  
“ _His name_ is _Host_.”, Edward replied, glaring slightly at Dark. Yes, the other man was terrifying, but Edward wasn't going to let _anyone_ be terrible to Host again.  
Dark raised a brow at that, and Edward huffed lightly. Host leaned against him, and Edward relaxed a little bit.  
“Host.”, Dark repeated, and Edward nodded sharply. “He's lying.”.  
“And why would you say _that_.”, Edward glared at Dark, angry, angry that everyone was against Host's very existence.

“ _You know the Author_.”, Dark's voice was a low growl as he replied, and Edward scoffed in reply.  
“And he's not. _The Author_.”, he countered, which caused Dark to grow more irritated at the man.  
“You and I both know that's not the case.”.  
“ _I_ know that he's not. It's not my fault you're _blind_.”

Dark scoffed, and was ready to reply again, when Host gently tugged on Edward's sleeve. The doctor turned to him, expression softening again.  
“Yes Host?”, he said softly, a gentle smile on his lips.  
“Who's... who's Author?”, Host asked quietly, and Edward sighed softly.  
“He was a bad person.”, Edward answered softly. Host squirmed lightly, nodding, as Dark just watched.  
“Why... why does Darkiplier say the Host is the Author?”.  
“Because he's an evil man.”, Edward replied, and Dark scoffed in disbelief.  
“Me? You're talking to someone who _tortures_ people _for fun_.”, he muttered darkly, and Edward rolled his eyes. Host seemed concerned, but he was also confused, so he didn't dare say anything more right now.

Edward gently took Host's hand off of his sleeve, before standing up, striding over to Dark.  
“ _He doesn't. Remember_.”, he growled quietly. He didn't want Host to know, but of course Host knew anyways. His narrations picked up on it perfectly alright.  
“Tsk. He's _playing with you_.”, Dark replied, standing up so he could tower over Edward, looking down on him, predator over prey. Edward didn't back down.  
“And how would you know?”, Edward derided, glaring up at Dark with his arms crossed.  
“Because it's _Author_. He's fucking with you like he did _last time_.”. Dark was losing his temper with the ever trusting doctor. Edward tensed slightly at the mention of “the last time”, and Dark smirked.  
“Wipe that smirk off your face. He's not like that anymore.”, Edward muttered, and Dark laid his hand onto Edward's side, just below his ribcage.  
“You know I'm right.”, Dark hummed, and Edward took a step back, pushing Dark's hand away from him as well.

“ _He's not. He doesn't. Remember_.”, Edward scowled at Dark. He hated how Dark implied Host wasn't Host, but just Author doing another one of his tricks. Host wasn't, Edward knew that, _he wasn't_.  
“Yeah? Then show him your scar. _Tell him_.”, Dark replied coldly. Edward didn't want to back down though, he wanted to convince Dark that Host wasn't Author.  
“Edward?”, Host spoke up softly, and immediately Edward softened, turning towards him.  
“Yes?”, he replied, voice gentle, and Host fidgeted.  
“The Host... would like to know.”, Host said softly, fiddling with his fingers. “About the scar.”.  
Edward walked over to Host, sitting down next to him. He gently took Host's hands, looking sad. “Are you sure? I promise it isn't your fault.”, he asked, to make sure.  
“Host's sure.”.

Edward took a deep breath and nodded. He lifted his top with one hand, and gently pulled Host's hand with his other one. He laid Host's hand onto the scars where Dark had had his hand previously as well.  
Host shyly touched the scar -the scars- feeling over them. It were three lines, in the shape of a crude A he was guessing.  
“The Author was... he was a very bad man.”, Edward said quietly, as Host's calloused hands laid over the sensitive scars. “He hurt us just because he could. He hurt _me_ , just to watch me cry, and to beg him to stop.”.  
“I'm sorry.”, Host's voice was so quiet, Edward barely heard it. He smiled weakly, gently taking Host's hand away and letting his top fall, to press a little kiss to Host's knuckles.  
“It's not your fault. It wasn't you. That was the Author, and you're not that man anymore.”, Edward said quietly. Host sniffed, holding onto Edward's hand with both of his own.

“The Host's sorry.”, he said quietly, holding Edward's hand tightly. “So s-sorry.”.  
Edward smiled sadly, pulling Host close to himself when the man shook and sobbed softly. Holding him against himself, gently running a hand through Host's hair.  
Little whimpers and words of “I'm sorry”, “The Host is sorry”, “So sorry”, “I'm sorry” filled the air as Host sobbed into Edward's chest, clinging to him tightly as Edward held him.  
“It's okay. It's not you. You don't have to remember. You're Host know. It's okay. I don't blame you, I never will. I forgive you.”, Edward mumbled soft reassurances to Host, holding him tightly.

Dark watched them with a cold gaze, unmoving from where he was standing. He took a deep breath, and Edward caught his gaze.  
Without another word, Dark vanished.  
Edward closed his eyes, leaning his head on top of Host's. He continued murmuring gentle reassurances and sweet nothings, until the blind man passed out against him.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be short but here we are


End file.
